


Fallout

by cassbuttandsquirrel



Series: Suptober20 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, First argument, M/M, Post-Canon, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassbuttandsquirrel/pseuds/cassbuttandsquirrel
Summary: Before Cas had fully recovered, Dean had declared his love (well, first his very strong affection, but eventually he’d managed to cough up the l-word) and they had happily boarded the train to meaningful sex, tag-teaming the dishes, and making Sam’s life a living hell.Domestic bliss, in other words.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Suptober20 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962145
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Fallout

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt of suptober 7 "domestic"  
> Unfortunately its angsty so if you're hear for a feel good fic you've come to the wrong place 😬  
> but i think I'll add the feelsy/fluffy resolution in suptober 8 heartless
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Ever since Cas sacrificed his grace and moved permanently into the bunker things have become different. If Dean was to take a hard look at the situation, the proper word to be used would be domestic. They’ve gotten domestic; in the best and the worst definitions of the word. 

Truthfully- things start out good. Great, even. Before Cas had fully recovered, Dean had declared his love (well, first his very strong affection, but eventually he’d managed to cough up the l-word) and they had happily boarded the train to meaningful sex, tag-teaming the dishes, and making Sam’s life a living hell. Domestic bliss, in other words. 

Things were good and they were great and they were even better - until they were too great and Dean had some trouble getting up the next morning. 

[This is where Cas - the damned little shit that he was - would probably interrupt to clarify that “some trouble” means that when Dean wasn’t lying straight as a board in their bed, he was crawling on all fours to the bathroom.]

“I’m fine,” is what Dean said the day after, as he managed to stand almost upright (Cas would comment: at a fucking 80 degree angle) and walk stiff-legged to the kitchen. Cas gave him a bit of side-eye on the way to the showers but didn’t comment. 

He met Sam in the kitchen.

“You’re up and at 'em!” Sam’s voice is much too chipper and Dean’s back aches worse than before. “Feeling better?”

Dean shrugged, reaching for the coffee pot and disguising his need to brace himself against the counter as he lifts the carafe as being lazy. 

“What can I say,” he grins, trying not to grind his teeth, “Cas gave it to me a little too hard the other night.”

Cas chooses that moment to walk by and he sends Dean a scathing glare before stomping on down the hallway. At least his comment has the desired effect on his little brother, his face bright red and horrified. 

“I wasn’t even going to ask. You are the worst.” Sam complains and leaves Dean in the kitchen alone. Which is a good thing because his back is killing him. He tries to relax a bit more against the counter but it makes things  _ worse  _ somehow and he ends up back on the floor. 

It gives him lots of time to contemplate his choices. First of all, the ceiling is filthy- the problem with actually consistently using a kitchen is that it gets dirty. Second, well, he might have fucked up. It had been rude to blame this situation on Cas, but he just did it to get a rise out of Sammy -- Cas  _ knows _ it wasn’t his dick in his ass that shot out his back. Honestly, Dean wishes it was; it would be less embarrassing. So yeah they did have sex that evening but Dean had been fine (really, honestly, blissed-out, good-sex fine) until he’d gotten up to clean them off and had been staring at Cas dozing on the bed and realised his feet were getting cold and reached down for his discarded socks when suddenly he was stuck, legs numb and chest tight with the feeling of  _ something is very wrong _ . Dean slowly slaps a hand over his burning face. Fuck, he wishes Cas had just banged him too hard.  _ I’m getting old. That’s all. We’re all getting fucking old. _

He worries his lip as he remembers the look Cas gave him. It was a shitty thing to say, and he wouldn’t have said it if he had known Cas would be there - but it had just been Sam, and it had been a joke for fucks sake. Cas should get that; they’ve known each other for over a decade and he’s fucking seen his soul or some shit like that. 

And anyways, he was fucking fine goddamnit. He’s been in worse pain - like that time when he got stuck by a werewolf at 16 and had to hold his guts in while Bobby drove him to the hospital. Really. He’s fine. And if he chooses to stay on the floor for a bit longer, it’s only because he’s taking the time to enjoy the moment. 

It’s weeks after the incident and Cas has just about had enough of Dean’s shit. In fact, if Dean says he’s “fine” one more time, Castiel is going to strangle him. Dean hobbles in and Cas slams down his coffee mug a little too hard on the aluminum table top making Sam jump. The younger Winchester barely spares either one a glance before clearing his throat and leaving to eat the remainder of his breakfast in the library. Cas feels a bit of sympathy for Sam, he too has had to put up with Dean's shit, and for years longer than Cas's experienced eternity, but in this scenario he's pretty sure he's gotten to worst of Dean's mood. 

A soft sound, extraordinarily close to a whimper, leaves Dean's lips as he reaches for the faucet. Cas feels his scowl deepen. Dean winces as he turns the faucet off again after rinsing out his mug. Cas clenches his fists. 

"Hey Sunshine," Dean's got a grin plastered on his stupid fucking face but the nickname does nothing to budge his mood, "I've got some plans for today --"

"Oh is one of them going to the doctor?" Cas's voice is waspish and he can see the shock and hurt in Dean's eyes before his expression hardens.  _ Two can play this game, Winchester. _

He would feel bad if he wasn't so fucking angry.

"Cas, I told you," Dean's green eyes are flinty, "Im-"

"If you say "fine" Dean Winchester, Father help me-"

"- _ fine. _ " 

They stand there for a moment, the fury rolling between them. 

" _ FUCK your motherfucking "fine"! _ " Cas can't find it in himself to care when Dean's eyes go wide. "This bullshit of you walking around like a goddamn martyr and for what, Dean? It's not "noble" and it's not "cute"," the air quotes are out, but Cas feels like he's about to vibrate out of his skin, "you refuse to get help! Sam or I can't drag you to the doctor because you are a fucking adult- and you can't even act like it!"

Cas knows he's overstepped. He knows it, but he takes a brief satisfaction in the way Dean has stepped back under his onslaught. Dean's face is an open expression of betrayal and regret hits Cas like a punch in the stomach. He's opening his mouth to apologise, but the lines of Dean's face suddenly solidfy and he beats him to it. 

"And what do  _ you _ care, Cas, huh?" He uses his height to his advantage, eyes boring into Cas's. "Don't pretend that this is about my fucking wellbeing or some shit - you just can't handle of the guilt of being absolutely useless without your grace." Dean says it all so very softly, and Cas feels like he's been scooped out and left empty right there on the kitchen tile. The air is ringing in Cas's ears and he barely hears Dean mutter, "I fucking knew it," before he pushes past him and leaves him there. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated
> 
> Survive the end of days with me on [ Twitter! ](https://twitter.com/librarian_gamer?s=07)


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